Prescription For Arizona
December 2008
Please note that all content and imagery on this page is copyright © Paul J. Lorona, 2009, unless otherwise noted.
Permission to use must be obtained in writing prior to use.
Images not credited were taken by Paul with a Canon EOS 20D using the ES 28-135mm f3.5 - 5.6 IS zoom lens.
Images credited to Vicky were taken with her Canon DS950IS Elph camera.
The background image was taken in Monument Valley, Arizona.
2008 was a busy year for my Fox and I. Many demands upon our time and resources (some of which I howled about at length in my blog for that year) prevented us from taking much time away from The Range, and prevented us from taking any sort of vacation with our pups at all during the long summer break. The pups had plenty of stuff to do between summer camps with their church groups, ministry trips to various places, my folks pool, and other adventures with friends. But my Fox and I kept our noses to the various millstones that we are responsible to, and our summer plodded into fall, and thence to winter without a break. Confounded by the uncertainty and confusion surrounding my parent's move last fall and winter (of 2007 / 08), we bungled the reservations for the annual winter trip to Yosemite as well, and so Thanksgiving came and went with the pups looking at us all doe-eyed because this was the second winter we hadn't been in that beautiful place. With the exception of a couple very brief trips to the central coast wine country, my Fox and I had been without respite from our toil since early April.
So it came upon us that we needed a break. My Fox had been suffering from cabin fever since late spring, telecommuting full time, and I wasn't much better off. One evening, talking to my folks, the subject of the family homeland in southeastern Arizona came up, and my Fox expressed a desire to go see it some time. With that gentle genesis the plans, such as they were, were formed. We had no real destination in mind, made no reservations, we just blocked out a few days on the calendar and told all and sundry we wouldn't be around during that time. Leaving Adam and Mike to watch over the elders and the dens, we threw some gear into the cavernous hold of the beast and set off ...
... right into the storm of the season. A cold front roared down out of the Gulf of Alaska on the jet stream, and the rain and snow started falling the day before we left. Cajon Pass was snowed in, Interstate 15 fully blocked in both directions, negating the most direct route to central Arizona, where we had anticipated beginning our little adventure. So we reset our course and GPS due east, through the driving rain that completely obscured our view of Banning Pass, and followed Interstate 10 to the Arizona line at Blythe. The driving rain abated to showers around Indio, and disappeared almost completely by the time our wheels crossed the Colorado River. The LA basin got several inches of rain, virtually none of which wound up in reservoirs.
We eventually found ourselves in small places that figured prominently in my family history, places with names like Casa Grande, Florence, Willcox, Pearce, Cochise, Tombstone, and the Dragoon Mountains. And we busily explored these places, spending more time with each other and less time with our cameras. I hope you'll understand, for the first two or three days my Fox and I were pretty tightly focused on each other, and didn't think of photography too often.
That changed as the land began to infuse our souls, and we began to slow down a little bit, to relax and enjoy the trip as well as each other's company. Then the cameras came into play. These are the Dragoons, viewed from the northern edge of the city of Tombstone just before sunset. Vicky took this image which looks northeast towards the Cochise Stronghold in the heart of the Dragoon Mountains.
A few minutes later, as we headed towards Saint David in the San Pedro River valley, Vicky took this image at sundown. The Santa Cruz Mountains are in the distance.
After a couple days exploring down near the Mexican border we again threw our gear aboard the beast and headed north up Interstate 17. Navigating a snowstorm, we climbed past Camp Verde to Flagstaff, and caught US 89 north into the Painted Desert. For the next couple of nights we would base out of a tiny burg called Cameron, a little community that I have known all my life, and which figures incidentally in one of my stories. We bunked at the Cameron Trading Post, and had a well appointed room and the facility almost to ourselves.
This is the old highway bridge at Cameron. Originally built in 1911, it served highway traffic across the Little Colorado River until the current bridge, visible behind the suspension bridge, was built in 1959. My folks recall driving across the original suspension bridge in the late fifties, before I was born. This view by Vicky looks northeast.
The Watchtower. This is located at the far east end of Grand Canyon National Park and accompanies an overlook called Desert View. It commands excellent views of the eastern end of the Grand Canyon where the Little Colorado and Colorado rivers meet. Designed by Mary Coulter for Fred Harvey of Santa Fe Railroad fame, this structure was built in the early 1930s. It was well below freezing outside when I took this picture, yet inside it was a toasty seventy degrees thanks to a roaring wood fire in a huge stone fireplace.
My Fox is originally from Maryland, so she is no stranger to snow and ice, but this type of driving condition impressed her, as she hadn't seen road ice like this for thirty-some years. The beast pulls at all corners, and while the air temperature was in the high twenties the sun was working its magic on the ice ... it was soft and didn't present too many problems. Still, she liked the white roadway, so she took this picture as we motored towards South Rim somewhere near Moran Point.
Here Vicky trained the lens of her camera north, looking across the Grand Canyon and up Bright Angel Canyon towards North Rim. The trail to Plateau Point is visible just below left center. Below that, hidden in the depths of the canyon, the mighty Colorado River passes over four thousand feet below our vantage point.
The canyon is a vast geologic record of the planet. Soils at the top are about 250 million years old, and are fairly recent by geologic standards. Soils at the bottom of the canyon are about 1,700 million years old, roughly one third the age of the planet itself, according to geologists. This gaping chasm is like an open book of our earths history, and much has been and will be written about how our planet formed based on explorations of discovery here.
That may be interesting, but I am much more enchanted by the ever-changing vistas of color, texture, and light that are always an ongoing process in nature. Too, the paradox of desert snow has always fascinated me. This view at Moran Point looks north-northeast from the shadows of the pinyon and pine trees that grow there.
Virgin windblown snow near Navajo Point, looking northwest.
We were feeling pretty frozen that evening as we rolled in to Cameron. A stiff, post-frontal breeze was sweeping the Kaibab Plateau, the sky was achingly clear, and you could see a million stars as we headed for our lodging after dinner at the trading post.
The next day we loaded up the beast once again for the short dash to Kayenta, up in the "Four Corners" country in the northeast corner of the state. Kayenta is our gateway to Monument Valley and our friends of the Navajo Nation. When I was a pup their lands were open to the friendly and inquisitive, back then the Navajo had yet to adopt the anglo traits of suspicion and mistrust of their fellows. As a pup my folks had taken me exploring all over the backcountry of their great nation, and I wanted to share those experiences with my own pups. But such was not to be. Years of visitors who thanked the Navajo for their trust and hospitality with vandalism, theft, and disrespect for the land and the people who lived with it changed all that. For decades the heart of Monument Valley was closed to all outsiders except with the presence of a native "guide", which was really nothing more than a thinly disguised guard, along to make sure you took nothing except pictures and left nothing except footprints. The Land of Room Enough and Time Enough had grown up to become just another tourist attraction, and as such was only visible from the tourist center on the edge of the valley.
But a miracle happened this year. The valley had been re-opened to outsiders. Oh to be sure there was a well defined loop road that one needed to stay on, but that was OK, because we were allowed access to some of the most beautiful scenery of the intermountain west. The ability to usher my Fox from one vista to the next, at our own pace and with only each other for company, was the high point of the trip for me, and I think for her as well.
The traditional view of The Mittens, as seen from the overlook at the park headquarters. This is probably one of the most famous views of the valley and it's buttes, or monuments, as they are known.
The tallest pinnacle in this image, taken by Vicky, is the one thousand and six foot high Totem Pole. Flanked on the left by a formation known as the Yei Bi Chei, these eroded spires are also some of the most famous of the valley. In the distance, far to the left and all alone, sits Rooster Rock, to the left of Meridian Butte. The background wall in the center and right is Hunts Mesa, named after a uranium prospector of the 1950s who in his later years took folks on jeep tours of the valley; my folks were some of his customers. From those bygone days half a century ago a four-wheeling dynasty has been formed of which my pups comprise the third generation. Emery Hunt would be proud, for we all are adherents to the credo Tread Lightly; we have a great love of and respect for the land and it's people. This view looks southeast in the late afternoon from the southern foot of Spearhead Mesa..
At the other end of Spearhead Mesa is Artists Point. From here the entire northwestern portion of the valley is laid out in panorama, begging the naked canvas or the lens. In this late afternoon view are, from left to right, Merrick Butte, Sentinel Mesa, Eagle Mesa, the Big Indian, the East Mitten, the Bear and Rabbit, and the Stagecoach. I used a polarizing filter for this image to enhance the contrast a bit and to bring out the thin clouds against the afternoon sky.
Moving west from Artists Point we pass Cly Butte, named for a family my folks and I knew back when I was a pup. At the northwestern edge of Cly Butte is North Window, another view of the northwestern valley. Here, framed on the left by the massive wall of Elephant Butte, we see in the distance Saddleback and the King On His Throne, the Bear and Rabbit, the Stagecoach, and the East Mitten. Again taken using a polarizing filter.
Even farther west, between Rain God Mesa and Mitchell Mesa, is Ford's Point. Without question the most famous location in the valley thanks to the movies director John Ford shot here decades ago, this location is the heart of the valley, if not quite in the center of it. Very near here, forty-some years ago, lived a portion of the Cly family that my folks knew well. My folks have a Navajo rug hanging in their home made by one of the people who used to live in this area. Sadly they have moved on now, in one manner or another, but the land remains unchanged. Ford Point is the little outcrop in the right foreground, Vicky's view here looks due north.
The West Mitten in late afternoon sunlight as the shadow of Mitchell Mesa races towards it, already darkening the foreground.
Another oft-repeated view of West Mitten, East Mitten, and Merrick Butte. This view looks due east from the site of the original campground just north of the park headquarters. When I was a wee pup my folks camped here in there VolksWagen bus, back when gas was a ripoff at 21 cents a gallon and most of the roads in the area were still dirt.
By the time my Fox and I had finished the tour of Monument Valley the light was quite low, and we decided to head back to Kayenta for a Navajo Taco and something to drink.
As the highway twists between Tyende Mesa and Gray Hills on the way south to Kayenta it passes close by this volcanic formation known either as Agathla or El Capitan, depending on who you ask. The peak of this monolith stands about 1,500 feet above the surrounding terrain. It is the "plug," or solidified core, of a long-extinct volcano. The lighter material of the cone has long since eroded away, leaving the solidified magma exposed. There are several smaller versions of this feature in the area, but this is by far the most impressive.
There is a larger formation of similar composition and history near Shiprock, New Mexico. Like this one, it is a dark, massive, and brooding edifice which can and does inspire all sorts of wild stories. Such were the geologic formations which inspired Tsé Bit’ A’í in the story A Little Nothing (look in part XIV).
The following morning my Fox and I were up before sunrise. A casual trip back to Interstate 40 in Flagstaff, and then following our noses west along that ribbon of civilization back to the Los Angeles basin, and within ten hours Arizona was a happy memory. Perhaps we can visit the four corners area again this spring, or maybe this summer, with the elder coyotes. For them it would be a homecoming, a visiting again of a long neglected friend.
Thanks for traveling with us!